Chapter 2: The Sale
"That wasn't very smart," Kira, the blue demon who now owned Spike, told him. "Escaping like that. Now you've gotten yourself all beaten and bruised. Customers don't like bruised merchandise; they like to bruise you themselves."
Spike tried to look back defiantly at Kira, but since he couldn't even open one eye, he wasn't sure how well he pulled it off.
"Get him ready," Kira barked at the guards. "I doubt we'll sell him soon, but we might as well have him ready in case anyone wants to sample the wares." He stroked Spike's cheek with one clammy hand. In spite of himself, Spike flinched at the demon's touch. "I may even do so myself once the market's closed for the day."
Laughing, the demon left while the guards chained Spike's arms between two posts, like the other slaves. It was hardly a comfortable position considering he had broken a couple of ribs.
Once he was secured the guards left and several workers–or more likely slaves–came forward. They quickly removed his boots and jeans in order to chain his feet as well so that he was spread eagle. Then they dumped water on him, and began to wash off the blood and dirt from his escape attempt.
The only good thing about that was that the water was warm. He soon understood why when a pretty woman approached him. She held something in one hand, and before Spike could see what it was, she had grabbed his flaccid dick and slipped a cock ring on it. She then began to stroke him.
He tried to resist, tried to tell his body that it was not to respond to this little trollop. But she was a damned skillful trollop and his treacherous dick was soon hard. What was worse, as soon as he was fully erect the bitch just walked away and left him like that.
The remaining slaves dried him off, and then began rubbing some sort of oil on his body so that it glistened.
Finally, the humiliating ordeal was over and they simply left him hanging there on display.
Buffy was disappointed and even a little afraid. She had tried so hard to be careful about her bidding. She didn't want to appear too eager to buy any of the slaves she had picked out. She'd even bid on a couple that she didn't want, when she was sure someone would out bid her, hoping that would confuse anyone who was trying to watch her biding patterns.
But then maybe no one cares, she thought bitterly. Maybe she simply had no chance of purchasing the sort of slave she needed. After all she was trying to outsmart creatures like Tain, her former master, who had been doing this for a lot longer than she had. In some cases, for lifetimes.
But what other choice did she have? She had to survive. She couldn't do that out in the real world. Not anymore.
The first thing she'd done when she'd gotten her freedom was to return home, to find her parents. But things had changed in the years Buffy had been away. Her parents were divorced, and barely spoke to each other. Of course when she showed up at the doorstep of her old house they'd made an effort, for her sake. Not to get back together but to get along.
It didn't matter though. Buffy, their little girl, was long gone. Only the Slayer was left. She felt awkward all the time. She'd basically missed most of high school, so her parents had to get her a tutor. And she no longer knew how to talk to anyone her own age. Not only was she behind on all the advancements in pop culture that had happened during her captivity, she just didn't care.
All she could think of when her old girlfriends talked about shoes was that their shoes would get them killed in less than a second in battle. And boys, well they treated her like a girl. She just didn't feel like a girl. Not when she could kill any of them with her bare hands.
Then one day her father had put his hand on her shoulder from behind. He hadn't meant anything by it other than as a gesture of comfort and affection, but it had surprised her, and she had broken his arm.
That's when she had run away, when she had come back here, to the Center. If she belonged anywhere, it was here.
"She looks so small. Are you sure she's really a Slayer?" one of the monsters had asked.
"Oh yes," Rhill'kor replied. "She's the genuine article. I guarantee. I can't guarantee she'll win of course, but she's definitely the Slayer."
"She seems rather damaged, will she hold up in the Circle?" another of the monsters had asked.
This monster was the least frightening of all of them. He was ugly, but then they were all ugly. His skin hung in loose folds around his arms and face. But he had these big floppy ears that kind of reminded Buffy of a puppy. She just wished he didn't have those blood red eyes, and that they weren't looking at her. At all of her.
After her first night in the cage they had stripped her of all her clothing and washed the blood from her beating off of her. Then they had chained her up naked for everyone to see.
But none of the monsters seemed to be looking at her in a sexual way. Which actually seemed worse. At first she thought maybe they were going to eat her or something, that's what monsters did after all, eat people. But they kept calling her the Slayer. She wanted to scream at them that she wasn't the Slayer, she was just Buffy Summers. She was a cheerleader, not a slayer, whatever a slayer was.
"Ah, yes Tain, she does look a little bruised," Rhill'kor agreed. "But here, this is a photo of her when we brought her in last night.
Tain, the floppy eared monster, took the Polaroid and looked at it and her several times.
"Most impressive," Tain agreed.
To this day, she had never quite figured out if Slayer was just a fancy name Rhill'kor had given her to make her sell better, or if it meant something more. Like maybe it was a sub-species of demon. But she had never seen or heard of another Slayer, nor had she ever run into another human who could do what she could do. Who was as strong or as fast or as tough.
Which left her wondering what she really was–if she was human at all.
The problem was she couldn't ask. Tain might have been less repulsive than the other demons, but he was just as cruel. He accepted nothing but perfection and absolute obedience from his slaves. Her years with him had been harsh and unforgiving.
Among his many rules was never ask questions. Another was to forbid the slaves to talk to each other, so she had never managed to find out exactly what it meant when they called her the Slayer.
Once she had her freedom, she couldn't exactly go up to other demons and say, "Hi there. I'm the Slayer. You wouldn't happen to know what that means, do you?"
The best she could figure was that she was some sort of human demon hybrid. Like vampires.
Vampires! The word brought to mind the attempted escape she had witnessed earlier.
It was a crazy thought, there hadn't been a vampire in the Circle for. . . well she didn't know how long, but a really long time. Everyone agreed that vampires were too weak, that they were inferior to other demons, but did that really mean it was true? She knew enough about demon society to know that they were just as capable of species-ism as humans were of racism.
But Tain was in this just for profit. If a vampire could be viable in the Circle surely he would have used them by now, bigotry or not, she told herself.
She rehearsed in her head the fight she'd seen. Two of the vampires had been worthless. But the blond one, the escaping slave. He'd been good. Real good.
The more she thought about it the more she thought that maybe he was just the fighter she was looking for. She'd been looking for a long shot, a demon that the others would overlook, and she may have just found him.
"Spirit? You know I may have what you're looking for after all," Kira's voice floated across the busy market.
Spike had stopped paying attention, however. At first he'd been hopeful every time a customer began browsing the wares. The sooner he was sold, the sooner his next chance at escaping would come. He knew they had no reason to move him any sooner. As a vampire, the elements wouldn't affect him, and as long as they gave him some blood to drink they could leave him chained indefinitely without it doing any harm to him.
But Kira had not been exaggerating earlier when he'd said that vampires were not in fashion. All of the slaves that had been sold were young human girls. No one had even looked twice at him. No one but Kira, that is.
And then all of a sudden Kira was there with what smelled like a human woman, except that she was obviously a customer and not a slave. Curious he tried to get a look at her, but her face was hidden inside the hood of her long purple robe. In fact every inch of her was covered including her hands which wore long brown leather gloves that disappeared into the sleeves of the robe.
Probably some old witch with a weird kink, Spike decided. She had to be something like that, because she was so small and delicate. He was pretty sure even a human male could have snapped her thin wrists without a second thought.
"We just got him in today," Kira explained to the robed figure. "A very fine specimen as you can see. And definitely spirited. He tried to escape, which is why he's in. . . less than perfect condition at the moment. But don't worry, vampires heal fast. It's part of their appeal."
The woman walked in a slow circle around Spike. He could feel her eyes examining every inch of him, weighing and judging him. For the first time he was almost glad of the cock ring. Without it he thought his cock would have wilted under the old bat's stare.
"So what do you think," Kira asked hopefully.
"Not bad. . ." she said, as if she was indifferent to the whole matter, yet Spike could hear her heart speed up. She wanted him.
But he couldn't smell any arousal on her.
Bugger Spike thought She's probably buying me for parts. Needs liver of the undead for some spell. At least he hoped that it was his liver she was after and not other parts that were currently on more prominent display.
At that moment the true vulnerability of his situation really sank in. Some part of Spike had been unwilling to accept what was happening to him. But now that he was actually being looked at like a piece of merchandise it was becoming all too real.
"How much?" she asked.
"Fifty kittens," Kira proclaimed.
She snorted. "For damaged merchandise? I'm not even sure I should pay you ten."
She put one gloved finger under Spike's chin and looked him straight in the eyes. For the first time he got a look at her face and he was startled. She wasn't old at all. In fact he doubted she was even eighteen yet. Her face was pretty and sweet. She looked more like a prom queen than someone looking to purchase a vampire sex slave.
Except for her eyes–pretty green eyes–that were far too old for her years. Those eyes searched his, and Spike had the impression that this was the important part. That she hadn't really been looking at him at all before now. That if she didn't find what she was looking for in his eyes she'd simply walk away and never come back. And he found he didn't want that to happen.
She's just my best chance to get out of here, he told himself. He'd have no problems overpowering her once they had gotten away from the market. Then he'd be free, and able to figure out a way to get Dru back.
"You're right. He is a little bruised. Forty?" Kira asked.
"I don't know," she said. "He's hair isn't even his natural color. How do I know what I'm really getting? Twenty?"
"He came to us that way. Though it does appear he's a brunette," Kira said gesturing towards Spike's exposed groin. "And just look at that cock," he continued excitedly. "Go ahead, feel free to touch the merchandise."
There was an awkward moment where no one did anything. Then the girl's hand shot out and she gave Spike's cock a quick squeeze. Brief as it was, it elicited a small moan from Spike.
Bloody hell, that girl's got quite the grip. On the other hand, the hesitation she'd showed seemed to indicate that whatever it was she was looking for, sex wasn't it.
That could be good or bad. He didn't really want to be anyone's sex toy, but if that wasn't why he was being purchased, what was he being bought for? Doesn't matter, he told himself. Because once we get out of the Center, she'll be dead and I'll be free.
"See, look how responsive he is, and that vampire stamina really is as good as they say. Thirty?"
"Thirty it is," the girl agreed.
She and the demon shook hands, after which Kira went off to get the paper work.
The woman moved close to Spike and reached inside her robe, and pulled out a silver cord. Then she fastened it around Spike's neck.
"Do you know what this is?" she asked.
He shook his head.
"The cord is magically linked to this bracelet." She held up her wrist which had a thick silver bracelet with several jewels. "With it I can cause you pleasure," she paused as she pressed one of the jewels.
Spike's eyes went wide, and he could feel his balls tighten as a strange phantom pleasure coursed through his body. It was intense and yet distant, as if he couldn't quite identify where in his body the sensations were coming from. But it was good and he realized that he was moaning. Then as suddenly as it had started it was gone.
"Or pain," she continued.
He was still trying to get his bearings from the strange sensations when she fiddled with the bracelet again so it was mostly surprise that elicited a small scream from him.
Much like the pleasure, the pain was everywhere and nowhere at once. It was hardly the worst pain he'd ever been in. It didn't compare to say, holy water or sunlight. But it was enough, and he was sure many demons were easily cowed by the threat of it.
Spike was stubborner than most demons, and if she thought she would be able to control him easily with a mystic carrot and stick then she had another thing coming. He also silently promised himself that that would be the last time she would hear him scream.
"Incidentally, if you get too far away from me, like say a hundred yards, the pain kicks in automatically. The further you get, the more it hurts. The pain is actually enough to kill some creatures, although if I understand vampires correctly it would probably only cripple you. Oh, and I wouldn't try taking off the cord either. They have a tendency to explode when they are fiddled with. Decapitation does kill vampires, doesn't it? I've found it kills most things."
Spike nodded, that he understood. She wasn't half as smart as she thought she was, however. He was willing to bet that the cord didn't care how far he got from her, just how far he got from the bracelet. So if say he ripped off her arm and took it with him, he could go anywhere he pleased.
Kira returned with some papers and a pen. After the girl had signed for Spike, Kira smiled at her and said, "I'm sure you'll be very happy with him."
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